Letters from Maine

If you live in a suburban or semirural community you have seen at least one urgent care center open up in the last decade. They now number nearly 12,000 nationwide and are growing in number at a 7% rate. Urgent care center patient volume surged during the pandemic and an industry trade group reports it has risen 60% since 2019 (Meyerson N. Why urgent care centers are popping up everywhere. CNN Business. 2023 Jan 28).

According to a report on the CNN Business website, this growth is the result of “convenience, gaps in primary care, high costs of emergency room visits, and increased investment by health systems and equity groups.” Initially, these centers were generally staffed by physicians (70% in 2009) but as of 2022 this number has fallen to 16%. While there are conflicting data to support the claim that urgent care centers are overprescribing, it is pretty clear that their presence in a community encourages fragmented care and weakens established provider-patient relationships. One study has shown that although urgent care centers can prevent a costly emergency room visit ($1,649/visit) this advantage is offset by urgent care cost of more than $6,000.

In the same CNN report, Susan Kressly MD, chair of the AAP’s Private Payer Advocacy Advisory Committee, said: “There’s a need to keep up with society’s demand for quick turnaround, on-demand services that can’t be supported by underfunded primary care.”

Her observation suggests that there is an accelerating demand for timely primary care services. From my perch here in semirural Maine, I don’t see an increasing or unreasonable demand for timeliness by patients and families. Two decades ago, the practice I was in offered evening and weekend morning office hours and call-in times when patientsor parents could speak directly to a physician. These avenues of accessibility have disappeared community wide.

Back in the 1990s “the medical home” was all the buzz. We were encouraged to be the first and primary place to go for a broad range of preventive and responsive care. One-stop shopping at its best. Now it’s “knock, knock ... is anybody home?” Not if it’s getting dark, or it’s the weekend, or you have a minor injury. “Please call the urgent care center.”

I will admit that our dedicated call-in times were unusual and probably not sustainable for most practices. But, most practices back then would see children with acute illness and minor scrapes and trauma on a same-day basis. We dressed burns, splinted joints, and closed minor lacerations. What has changed to create the void that urgent care centers see as an opportunity to make money?

One explanation is the difficulty in finding folks (both providers and support people) who are willing to work a schedule that includes evenings and weekends. One study predicts that there will be a shortfall of 55,000 primary care physicians in the next decade, regardless of their work-life balance preferences. Sometimes it is a lack of creativity and foresight in creating flexible booking schedules that include ample time for patient- and parent-friendly same-day appointments. Minor injuries and skin problems can usually be managed quickly and effectively by an experienced clinician. Unquestionably, one of the big changes has been the shift in the patient mix leaning more toward time-consuming mental health complaints, which make it more difficult to leave open same-day slots. Restoring pediatricians’ offices to their former role as urgent care centers will require training not just more primary care physicians but also mental health consultants and providers.

First, we must decide that we want to become a real medical home that answers to a knock with a receptive response at almost any hour. By failing to accept the challenge of seeing our patients in a timely manner for their minor problems we will continue to fragment their care and threaten to make our relationship with them increasingly irrelevant.

It will mean rethinking how we schedule ourselves and our offices. It may require taking a hard look at how we spend our professional time. For example are annual checkups a must for every child at every age? Are all follow-up visits equally important? Would a phone call be just as effective? Most of all it will require adopting a mindset that we want to be complete physicians for our patients.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

If you live in a suburban or semirural community you have seen at least one urgent care center open up in the last decade. They now number nearly 12,000 nationwide and are growing in number at a 7% rate. Urgent care center patient volume surged during the pandemic and an industry trade group reports it has risen 60% since 2019 (Meyerson N. Why urgent care centers are popping up everywhere. CNN Business. 2023 Jan 28).

According to a report on the CNN Business website, this growth is the result of “convenience, gaps in primary care, high costs of emergency room visits, and increased investment by health systems and equity groups.” Initially, these centers were generally staffed by physicians (70% in 2009) but as of 2022 this number has fallen to 16%. While there are conflicting data to support the claim that urgent care centers are overprescribing, it is pretty clear that their presence in a community encourages fragmented care and weakens established provider-patient relationships. One study has shown that although urgent care centers can prevent a costly emergency room visit ($1,649/visit) this advantage is offset by urgent care cost of more than $6,000.

In the same CNN report, Susan Kressly MD, chair of the AAP’s Private Payer Advocacy Advisory Committee, said: “There’s a need to keep up with society’s demand for quick turnaround, on-demand services that can’t be supported by underfunded primary care.”

Her observation suggests that there is an accelerating demand for timely primary care services. From my perch here in semirural Maine, I don’t see an increasing or unreasonable demand for timeliness by patients and families. Two decades ago, the practice I was in offered evening and weekend morning office hours and call-in times when patientsor parents could speak directly to a physician. These avenues of accessibility have disappeared community wide.

Back in the 1990s “the medical home” was all the buzz. We were encouraged to be the first and primary place to go for a broad range of preventive and responsive care. One-stop shopping at its best. Now it’s “knock, knock ... is anybody home?” Not if it’s getting dark, or it’s the weekend, or you have a minor injury. “Please call the urgent care center.”

I will admit that our dedicated call-in times were unusual and probably not sustainable for most practices. But, most practices back then would see children with acute illness and minor scrapes and trauma on a same-day basis. We dressed burns, splinted joints, and closed minor lacerations. What has changed to create the void that urgent care centers see as an opportunity to make money?

One explanation is the difficulty in finding folks (both providers and support people) who are willing to work a schedule that includes evenings and weekends. One study predicts that there will be a shortfall of 55,000 primary care physicians in the next decade, regardless of their work-life balance preferences. Sometimes it is a lack of creativity and foresight in creating flexible booking schedules that include ample time for patient- and parent-friendly same-day appointments. Minor injuries and skin problems can usually be managed quickly and effectively by an experienced clinician. Unquestionably, one of the big changes has been the shift in the patient mix leaning more toward time-consuming mental health complaints, which make it more difficult to leave open same-day slots. Restoring pediatricians’ offices to their former role as urgent care centers will require training not just more primary care physicians but also mental health consultants and providers.

First, we must decide that we want to become a real medical home that answers to a knock with a receptive response at almost any hour. By failing to accept the challenge of seeing our patients in a timely manner for their minor problems we will continue to fragment their care and threaten to make our relationship with them increasingly irrelevant.

It will mean rethinking how we schedule ourselves and our offices. It may require taking a hard look at how we spend our professional time. For example are annual checkups a must for every child at every age? Are all follow-up visits equally important? Would a phone call be just as effective? Most of all it will require adopting a mindset that we want to be complete physicians for our patients.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

If you live in a suburban or semirural community you have seen at least one urgent care center open up in the last decade. They now number nearly 12,000 nationwide and are growing in number at a 7% rate. Urgent care center patient volume surged during the pandemic and an industry trade group reports it has risen 60% since 2019 (Meyerson N. Why urgent care centers are popping up everywhere. CNN Business. 2023 Jan 28).

According to a report on the CNN Business website, this growth is the result of “convenience, gaps in primary care, high costs of emergency room visits, and increased investment by health systems and equity groups.” Initially, these centers were generally staffed by physicians (70% in 2009) but as of 2022 this number has fallen to 16%. While there are conflicting data to support the claim that urgent care centers are overprescribing, it is pretty clear that their presence in a community encourages fragmented care and weakens established provider-patient relationships. One study has shown that although urgent care centers can prevent a costly emergency room visit ($1,649/visit) this advantage is offset by urgent care cost of more than $6,000.

In the same CNN report, Susan Kressly MD, chair of the AAP’s Private Payer Advocacy Advisory Committee, said: “There’s a need to keep up with society’s demand for quick turnaround, on-demand services that can’t be supported by underfunded primary care.”

Her observation suggests that there is an accelerating demand for timely primary care services. From my perch here in semirural Maine, I don’t see an increasing or unreasonable demand for timeliness by patients and families. Two decades ago, the practice I was in offered evening and weekend morning office hours and call-in times when patientsor parents could speak directly to a physician. These avenues of accessibility have disappeared community wide.

Back in the 1990s “the medical home” was all the buzz. We were encouraged to be the first and primary place to go for a broad range of preventive and responsive care. One-stop shopping at its best. Now it’s “knock, knock ... is anybody home?” Not if it’s getting dark, or it’s the weekend, or you have a minor injury. “Please call the urgent care center.”

I will admit that our dedicated call-in times were unusual and probably not sustainable for most practices. But, most practices back then would see children with acute illness and minor scrapes and trauma on a same-day basis. We dressed burns, splinted joints, and closed minor lacerations. What has changed to create the void that urgent care centers see as an opportunity to make money?

One explanation is the difficulty in finding folks (both providers and support people) who are willing to work a schedule that includes evenings and weekends. One study predicts that there will be a shortfall of 55,000 primary care physicians in the next decade, regardless of their work-life balance preferences. Sometimes it is a lack of creativity and foresight in creating flexible booking schedules that include ample time for patient- and parent-friendly same-day appointments. Minor injuries and skin problems can usually be managed quickly and effectively by an experienced clinician. Unquestionably, one of the big changes has been the shift in the patient mix leaning more toward time-consuming mental health complaints, which make it more difficult to leave open same-day slots. Restoring pediatricians’ offices to their former role as urgent care centers will require training not just more primary care physicians but also mental health consultants and providers.

First, we must decide that we want to become a real medical home that answers to a knock with a receptive response at almost any hour. By failing to accept the challenge of seeing our patients in a timely manner for their minor problems we will continue to fragment their care and threaten to make our relationship with them increasingly irrelevant.

It will mean rethinking how we schedule ourselves and our offices. It may require taking a hard look at how we spend our professional time. For example are annual checkups a must for every child at every age? Are all follow-up visits equally important? Would a phone call be just as effective? Most of all it will require adopting a mindset that we want to be complete physicians for our patients.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

According to an article in the Wall Street Journal (Mosbergen D. 2023 Jan 16), physicians-in-training in several parts of the country are attempting to unionize. The Committee of Interns and Residents (CIR), a union representing about 15% of the 140,000 residents and fellows in the United States reports that it has been adding chapters at an accelerated rate since the pandemic began.

Most of the 1,400 residents at Palo Alto–based Stanford Medicine recently voted to unionize seeking better compensation and improved working conditions including more accommodations for residents with disabilities or who are breastfeeding. At the University of Illinois at Chicago, house officers are also exploring an association with CIR hoping that collective bargaining might help them get “better pay and working conditions that could alleviate some burnout and stress.”

Although physicians have been hesitant to organize themselves around workplace concerns, nurses have a more robust history of unionizing and taking action. Recently, the nurses at two of New York’s largest medical centers went on a strike for 3 days that ended after the medical centers agreed to their primary demand of hiring more nurses and committing to set more workable nurse to patient ratios.

In an unusual but historic incident of workplace activism, the residents and interns at the then notoriously decrepit Boston City Hospital staged a “heal-in” in 1967 during which they admitted more patients (all with legitimate conditions for admission) than the hospital could handle. While more pay was included in their demands (interns were being paid $3,600/year and senior residents $7,500/year), the primary complaint of the house officers focused on patient health and safety issues. The crisis this work action triggered finally brought into sharp focus the city’s failure to care for its most needy citizens and over time, changes have been made (TIME Magazine. U.S. edition. Jun 21;91:25).

Having spent some time at the Boston City Hospital as a medical student in the 1960s I can attest to the deplorable conditions. While you might not be washing your hands and instruments in rusty sinks or having to brush flaking paint off your patients’ cribs, you may be experiencing working conditions that are threatening the health and safety of you, your coworkers, and not least of all your patients. Staffing shortages, clunky electronic health record systems that are adding hours of work to your day, screen after screen of data entry tasks that prevent you from meeting your patients eye-to-eye, and piles of prior authorization requests clogging your inbox to name just a few.

Who can you complain to, other than your coworkers? The patients brought their problems to you; it doesn’t seem fair to add to their burden by sharing your own. Maybe it’s time to think about joining a union to strengthen your voice and create some change.

But “union” and “strike” don’t sound very professional and certainly not coming from the mouths of folks who have chosen to be caregivers. However, things have changed. Most of us are employees now. We need to finally accept that role and begin acting like employees working under stressful and unhealthy conditions. Does the word “burnout” make the notion of unionizing any more palatable?

The American Medical Association’s code of ethics wisely discourages physicians from engaging in actions that withhold medical care. However, the Boston City Hospital house officers provided just one example of a work action that can draw attention to the problem while still providing care to the patients in our trust.

Simply, joining our voices can be a powerful force in the war of words and images. Patients don’t like the impersonalization that has come with the current crop of electronic health record systems and the tortuous phone trees they must navigate just to talk to a human voice any more than we do. Instead of complaining to the patients, we should explain to them that the working conditions we must endure have the same roots as the things they don’t like about coming to see us.

I hope your situation still allows you to have an effective voice. If it doesn’t maybe it’s time to consider unionizing. However, if asking for more pay is anywhere near the top of your grievance list, I don’t want to join your union because you are doomed to failure on the public relations battlefield.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

According to an article in the Wall Street Journal (Mosbergen D. 2023 Jan 16), physicians-in-training in several parts of the country are attempting to unionize. The Committee of Interns and Residents (CIR), a union representing about 15% of the 140,000 residents and fellows in the United States reports that it has been adding chapters at an accelerated rate since the pandemic began.

Most of the 1,400 residents at Palo Alto–based Stanford Medicine recently voted to unionize seeking better compensation and improved working conditions including more accommodations for residents with disabilities or who are breastfeeding. At the University of Illinois at Chicago, house officers are also exploring an association with CIR hoping that collective bargaining might help them get “better pay and working conditions that could alleviate some burnout and stress.”

Although physicians have been hesitant to organize themselves around workplace concerns, nurses have a more robust history of unionizing and taking action. Recently, the nurses at two of New York’s largest medical centers went on a strike for 3 days that ended after the medical centers agreed to their primary demand of hiring more nurses and committing to set more workable nurse to patient ratios.

In an unusual but historic incident of workplace activism, the residents and interns at the then notoriously decrepit Boston City Hospital staged a “heal-in” in 1967 during which they admitted more patients (all with legitimate conditions for admission) than the hospital could handle. While more pay was included in their demands (interns were being paid $3,600/year and senior residents $7,500/year), the primary complaint of the house officers focused on patient health and safety issues. The crisis this work action triggered finally brought into sharp focus the city’s failure to care for its most needy citizens and over time, changes have been made (TIME Magazine. U.S. edition. Jun 21;91:25).

Having spent some time at the Boston City Hospital as a medical student in the 1960s I can attest to the deplorable conditions. While you might not be washing your hands and instruments in rusty sinks or having to brush flaking paint off your patients’ cribs, you may be experiencing working conditions that are threatening the health and safety of you, your coworkers, and not least of all your patients. Staffing shortages, clunky electronic health record systems that are adding hours of work to your day, screen after screen of data entry tasks that prevent you from meeting your patients eye-to-eye, and piles of prior authorization requests clogging your inbox to name just a few.

Who can you complain to, other than your coworkers? The patients brought their problems to you; it doesn’t seem fair to add to their burden by sharing your own. Maybe it’s time to think about joining a union to strengthen your voice and create some change.

But “union” and “strike” don’t sound very professional and certainly not coming from the mouths of folks who have chosen to be caregivers. However, things have changed. Most of us are employees now. We need to finally accept that role and begin acting like employees working under stressful and unhealthy conditions. Does the word “burnout” make the notion of unionizing any more palatable?

The American Medical Association’s code of ethics wisely discourages physicians from engaging in actions that withhold medical care. However, the Boston City Hospital house officers provided just one example of a work action that can draw attention to the problem while still providing care to the patients in our trust.

Simply, joining our voices can be a powerful force in the war of words and images. Patients don’t like the impersonalization that has come with the current crop of electronic health record systems and the tortuous phone trees they must navigate just to talk to a human voice any more than we do. Instead of complaining to the patients, we should explain to them that the working conditions we must endure have the same roots as the things they don’t like about coming to see us.

I hope your situation still allows you to have an effective voice. If it doesn’t maybe it’s time to consider unionizing. However, if asking for more pay is anywhere near the top of your grievance list, I don’t want to join your union because you are doomed to failure on the public relations battlefield.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

According to an article in the Wall Street Journal (Mosbergen D. 2023 Jan 16), physicians-in-training in several parts of the country are attempting to unionize. The Committee of Interns and Residents (CIR), a union representing about 15% of the 140,000 residents and fellows in the United States reports that it has been adding chapters at an accelerated rate since the pandemic began.

Most of the 1,400 residents at Palo Alto–based Stanford Medicine recently voted to unionize seeking better compensation and improved working conditions including more accommodations for residents with disabilities or who are breastfeeding. At the University of Illinois at Chicago, house officers are also exploring an association with CIR hoping that collective bargaining might help them get “better pay and working conditions that could alleviate some burnout and stress.”

Although physicians have been hesitant to organize themselves around workplace concerns, nurses have a more robust history of unionizing and taking action. Recently, the nurses at two of New York’s largest medical centers went on a strike for 3 days that ended after the medical centers agreed to their primary demand of hiring more nurses and committing to set more workable nurse to patient ratios.

In an unusual but historic incident of workplace activism, the residents and interns at the then notoriously decrepit Boston City Hospital staged a “heal-in” in 1967 during which they admitted more patients (all with legitimate conditions for admission) than the hospital could handle. While more pay was included in their demands (interns were being paid $3,600/year and senior residents $7,500/year), the primary complaint of the house officers focused on patient health and safety issues. The crisis this work action triggered finally brought into sharp focus the city’s failure to care for its most needy citizens and over time, changes have been made (TIME Magazine. U.S. edition. Jun 21;91:25).

Having spent some time at the Boston City Hospital as a medical student in the 1960s I can attest to the deplorable conditions. While you might not be washing your hands and instruments in rusty sinks or having to brush flaking paint off your patients’ cribs, you may be experiencing working conditions that are threatening the health and safety of you, your coworkers, and not least of all your patients. Staffing shortages, clunky electronic health record systems that are adding hours of work to your day, screen after screen of data entry tasks that prevent you from meeting your patients eye-to-eye, and piles of prior authorization requests clogging your inbox to name just a few.

Who can you complain to, other than your coworkers? The patients brought their problems to you; it doesn’t seem fair to add to their burden by sharing your own. Maybe it’s time to think about joining a union to strengthen your voice and create some change.

But “union” and “strike” don’t sound very professional and certainly not coming from the mouths of folks who have chosen to be caregivers. However, things have changed. Most of us are employees now. We need to finally accept that role and begin acting like employees working under stressful and unhealthy conditions. Does the word “burnout” make the notion of unionizing any more palatable?

The American Medical Association’s code of ethics wisely discourages physicians from engaging in actions that withhold medical care. However, the Boston City Hospital house officers provided just one example of a work action that can draw attention to the problem while still providing care to the patients in our trust.

Simply, joining our voices can be a powerful force in the war of words and images. Patients don’t like the impersonalization that has come with the current crop of electronic health record systems and the tortuous phone trees they must navigate just to talk to a human voice any more than we do. Instead of complaining to the patients, we should explain to them that the working conditions we must endure have the same roots as the things they don’t like about coming to see us.

I hope your situation still allows you to have an effective voice. If it doesn’t maybe it’s time to consider unionizing. However, if asking for more pay is anywhere near the top of your grievance list, I don’t want to join your union because you are doomed to failure on the public relations battlefield.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.

Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.

In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.

While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.

The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.

You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.

Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.

Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.

We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.

Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.

In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.

While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.

The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.

You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.

Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.

Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.

We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.

Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.

In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.

While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.

The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.

You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.

Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.

Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.

We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I have assumed that being a parent has always been an anxiety-producing experience. Even back when the neonatal mortality rate was orders of magnitude greater than we are experiencing now, I suspect that each birth was still accompanied by a period of angst. However, as families no longer felt the need to produce more children to replace those lost to illness, each surviving child fell under the glare of an ever brightening spotlight.

Raising a child no longer became just something that came naturally, learned from one’s parents. Philosophers and eventually physicians felt obligated to advise parents on the best practices. My parents turned to Dr. Benjamin Spock’s classic work when they had a question, but I never got the feeling that they took his words as gospel.

By the time I started in practice the condition of being a parent was morphing into a verb. Books on “parenting” were beginning to fill the shelves of libraries and bookstores. Frustrated by what I saw as poorly conceived instruction manuals I succumbed to the temptation to spread my “better” advice for anxiety-tormented parents by writing books on how to feed picky eaters, or how to get erratic sleepers to sleep, or how to get a misbehaving child to understand the simple concept of “No!”

Back in the pre-Internet days I was competing for the attention of anxiety-driven parents not just with other self-described experts sitting at word processors, but with grandmothers, aunts, and the ladies next door. The book publishing market has cooled but the demand for advice on how to be the best parent has heated up. Into the void, enabled by the Internet, has erupted the phenomenon of social-media mom groups.

The lady next door and the mothers with strollers meeting informally at the playground are a tiny blip on the radar screen compared with the abundance of other mothers eager to listen and comment on social media–based mom groups unlimited by either geographic or temporal time restraints.

Unfortunately, as a recent article in the Wall Street Journal suggests, these support groups can often have a dark side. Researchers from Pepperdine University found in a small survey of a homogenous population of women that stress, as measured by saliva cortisol levels, increased with increasing use of “mom-centric social media” sites.

Citing anecdotal observations by mothers who did not participate in the study, the WSJ article describes episodes of shaming over topics such as steroid use in eczema and vaccine hesitancy. One mother described how she found group discussions about breastfeeding “particularly anxiety-producing.”

I have limited experience with online support groups but I have been surprised by how rude and condescending some of the contributors can be to what I could consider to be emotionally neutral subjects such as outboard motor oil pressure. I can imagine that when it comes to subjects in which there is no one best answer, the relative anonymity of the Internet provides cover for language that can be hurtful and stress inducing for someone already feeling isolated and anxious about being a parent.

Although this Pepperdine study is small, I suspect that a larger study would support the authors’ observations. For us as providers, it suggests that we need to find where parents are getting their information when we are trying to help those who seem particularly distressed. We should caution them that, while sharing information with peers can be reassuring and helpful at times, mom groups can be toxic as well. It also means that we should be careful in recommending social media sites – even those for which we have had good feedback.

And, most importantly, we must continue to work hard to make ourselves available to provide sensible and sensitive answers to those questions that are anxiety-producing for new parents.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I have assumed that being a parent has always been an anxiety-producing experience. Even back when the neonatal mortality rate was orders of magnitude greater than we are experiencing now, I suspect that each birth was still accompanied by a period of angst. However, as families no longer felt the need to produce more children to replace those lost to illness, each surviving child fell under the glare of an ever brightening spotlight.

Raising a child no longer became just something that came naturally, learned from one’s parents. Philosophers and eventually physicians felt obligated to advise parents on the best practices. My parents turned to Dr. Benjamin Spock’s classic work when they had a question, but I never got the feeling that they took his words as gospel.

By the time I started in practice the condition of being a parent was morphing into a verb. Books on “parenting” were beginning to fill the shelves of libraries and bookstores. Frustrated by what I saw as poorly conceived instruction manuals I succumbed to the temptation to spread my “better” advice for anxiety-tormented parents by writing books on how to feed picky eaters, or how to get erratic sleepers to sleep, or how to get a misbehaving child to understand the simple concept of “No!”

Back in the pre-Internet days I was competing for the attention of anxiety-driven parents not just with other self-described experts sitting at word processors, but with grandmothers, aunts, and the ladies next door. The book publishing market has cooled but the demand for advice on how to be the best parent has heated up. Into the void, enabled by the Internet, has erupted the phenomenon of social-media mom groups.

The lady next door and the mothers with strollers meeting informally at the playground are a tiny blip on the radar screen compared with the abundance of other mothers eager to listen and comment on social media–based mom groups unlimited by either geographic or temporal time restraints.

Unfortunately, as a recent article in the Wall Street Journal suggests, these support groups can often have a dark side. Researchers from Pepperdine University found in a small survey of a homogenous population of women that stress, as measured by saliva cortisol levels, increased with increasing use of “mom-centric social media” sites.

Citing anecdotal observations by mothers who did not participate in the study, the WSJ article describes episodes of shaming over topics such as steroid use in eczema and vaccine hesitancy. One mother described how she found group discussions about breastfeeding “particularly anxiety-producing.”

I have limited experience with online support groups but I have been surprised by how rude and condescending some of the contributors can be to what I could consider to be emotionally neutral subjects such as outboard motor oil pressure. I can imagine that when it comes to subjects in which there is no one best answer, the relative anonymity of the Internet provides cover for language that can be hurtful and stress inducing for someone already feeling isolated and anxious about being a parent.

Although this Pepperdine study is small, I suspect that a larger study would support the authors’ observations. For us as providers, it suggests that we need to find where parents are getting their information when we are trying to help those who seem particularly distressed. We should caution them that, while sharing information with peers can be reassuring and helpful at times, mom groups can be toxic as well. It also means that we should be careful in recommending social media sites – even those for which we have had good feedback.

And, most importantly, we must continue to work hard to make ourselves available to provide sensible and sensitive answers to those questions that are anxiety-producing for new parents.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I have assumed that being a parent has always been an anxiety-producing experience. Even back when the neonatal mortality rate was orders of magnitude greater than we are experiencing now, I suspect that each birth was still accompanied by a period of angst. However, as families no longer felt the need to produce more children to replace those lost to illness, each surviving child fell under the glare of an ever brightening spotlight.

Raising a child no longer became just something that came naturally, learned from one’s parents. Philosophers and eventually physicians felt obligated to advise parents on the best practices. My parents turned to Dr. Benjamin Spock’s classic work when they had a question, but I never got the feeling that they took his words as gospel.

By the time I started in practice the condition of being a parent was morphing into a verb. Books on “parenting” were beginning to fill the shelves of libraries and bookstores. Frustrated by what I saw as poorly conceived instruction manuals I succumbed to the temptation to spread my “better” advice for anxiety-tormented parents by writing books on how to feed picky eaters, or how to get erratic sleepers to sleep, or how to get a misbehaving child to understand the simple concept of “No!”

Back in the pre-Internet days I was competing for the attention of anxiety-driven parents not just with other self-described experts sitting at word processors, but with grandmothers, aunts, and the ladies next door. The book publishing market has cooled but the demand for advice on how to be the best parent has heated up. Into the void, enabled by the Internet, has erupted the phenomenon of social-media mom groups.

The lady next door and the mothers with strollers meeting informally at the playground are a tiny blip on the radar screen compared with the abundance of other mothers eager to listen and comment on social media–based mom groups unlimited by either geographic or temporal time restraints.

Unfortunately, as a recent article in the Wall Street Journal suggests, these support groups can often have a dark side. Researchers from Pepperdine University found in a small survey of a homogenous population of women that stress, as measured by saliva cortisol levels, increased with increasing use of “mom-centric social media” sites.

Citing anecdotal observations by mothers who did not participate in the study, the WSJ article describes episodes of shaming over topics such as steroid use in eczema and vaccine hesitancy. One mother described how she found group discussions about breastfeeding “particularly anxiety-producing.”

I have limited experience with online support groups but I have been surprised by how rude and condescending some of the contributors can be to what I could consider to be emotionally neutral subjects such as outboard motor oil pressure. I can imagine that when it comes to subjects in which there is no one best answer, the relative anonymity of the Internet provides cover for language that can be hurtful and stress inducing for someone already feeling isolated and anxious about being a parent.

Although this Pepperdine study is small, I suspect that a larger study would support the authors’ observations. For us as providers, it suggests that we need to find where parents are getting their information when we are trying to help those who seem particularly distressed. We should caution them that, while sharing information with peers can be reassuring and helpful at times, mom groups can be toxic as well. It also means that we should be careful in recommending social media sites – even those for which we have had good feedback.

And, most importantly, we must continue to work hard to make ourselves available to provide sensible and sensitive answers to those questions that are anxiety-producing for new parents.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Several years ago I visited my primary care provider in her new office. She had just left the practice where we had been coworkers for over a decade. I was “roomed” by Louise (not her real name) whom I had never met before. I assumed she had come with the new waiting room furniture. She took my vital signs, asked a few boilerplate questions, and told me that my PCP would be in shortly.

After our initial ping-pong match of how-are-things-going I mentioned to my old friend/PCP that I thought Louise needed to work on her person-to-person skills. She thanked me and said there were so many challenges in the new practice setting she hadn’t had a chance to work on staff training.

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

When I returned 6 months later Louise was a different person. She appeared and sounded interested in who I was and left me in the room to wait feeling glad I had spoken up. I wasn’t surprised at the change, knowing my former coworker’s past history. I was confident that in time she would coach her new staff and continue to reinforce her message by setting an example by being a caring and concerned physician.

The old Louise certainly wasn’t a rude or unpleasant person but good customer service just didn’t come naturally to her. She thought she was doing a good job, at least as far as she understood what her job was supposed to be. On the whole spectrum of professional misbehavior she would barely warrant a pixel of color. Unfortunately, we are seeing and suffering through a surge of rude behavior and incivility not just in the medical community but across all segments of our society.

It is particularly troubling in health care, which has an organizational nonsystem that was initially paternalistic and male dominated but continues to be hierarchical even as gender stereotypes are becoming less rigid. Rudeness within a team, whether it is a medical office or a factory assembly line, can create a toxic work environment that can affect the quality of the product. In this case the end product is the health and wellness of our patients. While incivility within a team can occasionally be hidden from the patients, eventually it will surface and take its toll on the customer service component of the practice.

One wonders why so many of us are behaving rudely. Is it examples we see in the media, is it our political leaders, or is the pandemic a contributor? Has democracy run its course? Are we victims of our departure from organized religion? Do we need to reorganize our medical training to be less hierarchical? I don’t think there is any single cause nor do I believe we need to restructure our medical training system to remedy the situation. We will always need to transfer information and skills from people who have them to people who need to learn them. If there is a low-hanging fruit in the customer service orchard it is one person at a time deciding to behave in a civil manner toward fellow citizens.

While a colorful crop of political signs arrived in the run-up to the November election, recently, here on the midcoast of Maine, simple white-on-black signs have appeared saying “BE NICE.”

The good news is that being nice can be contagious. Simply think of that golden rule. Treat your patients/customers/coworkers as you would like to be treated yourself.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Several years ago I visited my primary care provider in her new office. She had just left the practice where we had been coworkers for over a decade. I was “roomed” by Louise (not her real name) whom I had never met before. I assumed she had come with the new waiting room furniture. She took my vital signs, asked a few boilerplate questions, and told me that my PCP would be in shortly.

After our initial ping-pong match of how-are-things-going I mentioned to my old friend/PCP that I thought Louise needed to work on her person-to-person skills. She thanked me and said there were so many challenges in the new practice setting she hadn’t had a chance to work on staff training.

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

When I returned 6 months later Louise was a different person. She appeared and sounded interested in who I was and left me in the room to wait feeling glad I had spoken up. I wasn’t surprised at the change, knowing my former coworker’s past history. I was confident that in time she would coach her new staff and continue to reinforce her message by setting an example by being a caring and concerned physician.

The old Louise certainly wasn’t a rude or unpleasant person but good customer service just didn’t come naturally to her. She thought she was doing a good job, at least as far as she understood what her job was supposed to be. On the whole spectrum of professional misbehavior she would barely warrant a pixel of color. Unfortunately, we are seeing and suffering through a surge of rude behavior and incivility not just in the medical community but across all segments of our society.

It is particularly troubling in health care, which has an organizational nonsystem that was initially paternalistic and male dominated but continues to be hierarchical even as gender stereotypes are becoming less rigid. Rudeness within a team, whether it is a medical office or a factory assembly line, can create a toxic work environment that can affect the quality of the product. In this case the end product is the health and wellness of our patients. While incivility within a team can occasionally be hidden from the patients, eventually it will surface and take its toll on the customer service component of the practice.

One wonders why so many of us are behaving rudely. Is it examples we see in the media, is it our political leaders, or is the pandemic a contributor? Has democracy run its course? Are we victims of our departure from organized religion? Do we need to reorganize our medical training to be less hierarchical? I don’t think there is any single cause nor do I believe we need to restructure our medical training system to remedy the situation. We will always need to transfer information and skills from people who have them to people who need to learn them. If there is a low-hanging fruit in the customer service orchard it is one person at a time deciding to behave in a civil manner toward fellow citizens.

While a colorful crop of political signs arrived in the run-up to the November election, recently, here on the midcoast of Maine, simple white-on-black signs have appeared saying “BE NICE.”

The good news is that being nice can be contagious. Simply think of that golden rule. Treat your patients/customers/coworkers as you would like to be treated yourself.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Several years ago I visited my primary care provider in her new office. She had just left the practice where we had been coworkers for over a decade. I was “roomed” by Louise (not her real name) whom I had never met before. I assumed she had come with the new waiting room furniture. She took my vital signs, asked a few boilerplate questions, and told me that my PCP would be in shortly.

After our initial ping-pong match of how-are-things-going I mentioned to my old friend/PCP that I thought Louise needed to work on her person-to-person skills. She thanked me and said there were so many challenges in the new practice setting she hadn’t had a chance to work on staff training.

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

When I returned 6 months later Louise was a different person. She appeared and sounded interested in who I was and left me in the room to wait feeling glad I had spoken up. I wasn’t surprised at the change, knowing my former coworker’s past history. I was confident that in time she would coach her new staff and continue to reinforce her message by setting an example by being a caring and concerned physician.

The old Louise certainly wasn’t a rude or unpleasant person but good customer service just didn’t come naturally to her. She thought she was doing a good job, at least as far as she understood what her job was supposed to be. On the whole spectrum of professional misbehavior she would barely warrant a pixel of color. Unfortunately, we are seeing and suffering through a surge of rude behavior and incivility not just in the medical community but across all segments of our society.

It is particularly troubling in health care, which has an organizational nonsystem that was initially paternalistic and male dominated but continues to be hierarchical even as gender stereotypes are becoming less rigid. Rudeness within a team, whether it is a medical office or a factory assembly line, can create a toxic work environment that can affect the quality of the product. In this case the end product is the health and wellness of our patients. While incivility within a team can occasionally be hidden from the patients, eventually it will surface and take its toll on the customer service component of the practice.

One wonders why so many of us are behaving rudely. Is it examples we see in the media, is it our political leaders, or is the pandemic a contributor? Has democracy run its course? Are we victims of our departure from organized religion? Do we need to reorganize our medical training to be less hierarchical? I don’t think there is any single cause nor do I believe we need to restructure our medical training system to remedy the situation. We will always need to transfer information and skills from people who have them to people who need to learn them. If there is a low-hanging fruit in the customer service orchard it is one person at a time deciding to behave in a civil manner toward fellow citizens.

While a colorful crop of political signs arrived in the run-up to the November election, recently, here on the midcoast of Maine, simple white-on-black signs have appeared saying “BE NICE.”

The good news is that being nice can be contagious. Simply think of that golden rule. Treat your patients/customers/coworkers as you would like to be treated yourself.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

In a recent column, I cautiously discussed what has been called gender-affirming or transgender care.

In the days following the appearance of that Letters From Maine column on this topic, I received an unusual number of responses from readers suggesting I had touched on a topic that was on the minds of many pediatricians.

Since then, the Florida Board of Medicine and Osteopathic Medicine voted to forbid physicians from prescribing puberty blockers and hormones and/or performing surgeries in patients under age 18 who were seeking transgender care. Children already receiving treatments were exempt from the ruling. The osteopathic board added a second exception in cases where the child was a participant in a research protocol. The board of medicine inexplicably did not include this exception.

Regardless of how one feels about the ethics and the appropriateness of transgender care, it is not an issue to be decided by a politically appointed entity.

As I look back over what I have learned by watching this tragic drama play out, I am struck by a distinction that has yet to receive enough attention. When we are discussing gender dysphoria we are really talking about two different pediatric populations and scenarios. There is the child who from a very young age has consistently preferred to dress and behave in a manner that is different from the gender he or she was assigned at birth. The management of this child is a challenge that requires a careful balance of support and protection from the harsh realities of the gender-regimented world.

The second scenario stars the adolescent who has no prior history of gender dysphoria, or at least no outward manifestations. Then, faced by the challenges of puberty and adolescence, something or things happen that erupt into a full-blown gender-dysphoric storm. We currently have very little understanding of what those “things” are.

Each population can probably be further divided into subgroups – and that’s just the point. Every gender-dysphoric child, whether their dysphoria began at age 2 or 12, is an individual with a unique family dynamic and socioeconomic background. They may share some as yet unknown genetic signature, but in our current state of ignorance they deserve, as do all of our patients, to be treated as individuals by their primary care physicians and consultants who must at first do no harm. One size does not fit all and certainly their care should not be dictated by a politically influenced entity.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

In a recent column, I cautiously discussed what has been called gender-affirming or transgender care.

In the days following the appearance of that Letters From Maine column on this topic, I received an unusual number of responses from readers suggesting I had touched on a topic that was on the minds of many pediatricians.

Since then, the Florida Board of Medicine and Osteopathic Medicine voted to forbid physicians from prescribing puberty blockers and hormones and/or performing surgeries in patients under age 18 who were seeking transgender care. Children already receiving treatments were exempt from the ruling. The osteopathic board added a second exception in cases where the child was a participant in a research protocol. The board of medicine inexplicably did not include this exception.

Regardless of how one feels about the ethics and the appropriateness of transgender care, it is not an issue to be decided by a politically appointed entity.

As I look back over what I have learned by watching this tragic drama play out, I am struck by a distinction that has yet to receive enough attention. When we are discussing gender dysphoria we are really talking about two different pediatric populations and scenarios. There is the child who from a very young age has consistently preferred to dress and behave in a manner that is different from the gender he or she was assigned at birth. The management of this child is a challenge that requires a careful balance of support and protection from the harsh realities of the gender-regimented world.

The second scenario stars the adolescent who has no prior history of gender dysphoria, or at least no outward manifestations. Then, faced by the challenges of puberty and adolescence, something or things happen that erupt into a full-blown gender-dysphoric storm. We currently have very little understanding of what those “things” are.

Each population can probably be further divided into subgroups – and that’s just the point. Every gender-dysphoric child, whether their dysphoria began at age 2 or 12, is an individual with a unique family dynamic and socioeconomic background. They may share some as yet unknown genetic signature, but in our current state of ignorance they deserve, as do all of our patients, to be treated as individuals by their primary care physicians and consultants who must at first do no harm. One size does not fit all and certainly their care should not be dictated by a politically influenced entity.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

In a recent column, I cautiously discussed what has been called gender-affirming or transgender care.

In the days following the appearance of that Letters From Maine column on this topic, I received an unusual number of responses from readers suggesting I had touched on a topic that was on the minds of many pediatricians.

Since then, the Florida Board of Medicine and Osteopathic Medicine voted to forbid physicians from prescribing puberty blockers and hormones and/or performing surgeries in patients under age 18 who were seeking transgender care. Children already receiving treatments were exempt from the ruling. The osteopathic board added a second exception in cases where the child was a participant in a research protocol. The board of medicine inexplicably did not include this exception.

Regardless of how one feels about the ethics and the appropriateness of transgender care, it is not an issue to be decided by a politically appointed entity.

As I look back over what I have learned by watching this tragic drama play out, I am struck by a distinction that has yet to receive enough attention. When we are discussing gender dysphoria we are really talking about two different pediatric populations and scenarios. There is the child who from a very young age has consistently preferred to dress and behave in a manner that is different from the gender he or she was assigned at birth. The management of this child is a challenge that requires a careful balance of support and protection from the harsh realities of the gender-regimented world.

The second scenario stars the adolescent who has no prior history of gender dysphoria, or at least no outward manifestations. Then, faced by the challenges of puberty and adolescence, something or things happen that erupt into a full-blown gender-dysphoric storm. We currently have very little understanding of what those “things” are.

Each population can probably be further divided into subgroups – and that’s just the point. Every gender-dysphoric child, whether their dysphoria began at age 2 or 12, is an individual with a unique family dynamic and socioeconomic background. They may share some as yet unknown genetic signature, but in our current state of ignorance they deserve, as do all of our patients, to be treated as individuals by their primary care physicians and consultants who must at first do no harm. One size does not fit all and certainly their care should not be dictated by a politically influenced entity.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I suspect that you have heard about or maybe read the recent Associated Press story reporting that four daycare workers in Hamilton, Miss., have been charged with felony child abuse for intentionally scaring the children “who didn’t clean up or act good” by wearing a Halloween mask and yelling in their faces. I can have some sympathy for those among us who choose to spend their days tending a flock of sometimes unruly and mischievous toddlers and preschoolers. But, I think one would be hard pressed to find very many adults who would condone the strategy of these misguided daycare providers. Not surprisingly, the parents of some of these children describe their children as traumatized and having disordered sleep.

The news report of this incident in Mississippi doesn’t tell us if these daycare providers had used this tactic in the past. One wonders whether they had found less dramatic verbal threats just weren’t as effective as they had hoped and so decided to go all out.

How effective is fear in changing behavior? Certainly, we have all experienced situations in which a frightening experience has caused us to avoid places, people, and activities. But, is a fear-focused strategy one that health care providers should include in their quiver as we try to mold patient behavior? As luck would have it, 2 weeks before this news story broke I encountered a global study from 84 countries that sought to answer this question (Affect Sci. 2022 Sep. doi: 10.1007/s42761-022-00128-3).

Using the WHO four-point advice about COVID prevention (stay home/avoid shops/use face covering/isolate if exposed) as a model the researchers around the world reviewed the responses of 16,000 individuals. They found that there was no difference in the effectiveness of the message whether it was framed as a negative (“you have so much to lose”) or a positive (“you have so much to gain”). However, investigators observed that the negatively framed presentations generated significantly more anxiety in the respondents. The authors of the paper conclude that if there is no significant difference in the effectiveness, why would we chose a negatively framed presentation that is likely to generate anxiety that we know is associated with increased morbidity and mortality. From a purely public health perspective, it doesn’t make sense and is counterproductive.

I guess if we look back to the old carrot and stick metaphor we shouldn’t be surprised by the findings in this paper. If one’s only goal is to get a group of young preschoolers to behave by scaring the b’geezes out of them with a mask or a threat of bodily punishment, then go for it. Scare tactics will probably work just as well as offering a well-chosen reward system. However, the devil is in the side effects. It’s the same argument that I give to parents who argue that spanking works. Of course it does, but it has a narrow margin for safety and can set up ripples of negative side effects that can destroy healthy parent-child relationships.

The bottom line of this story is the sad truth that somewhere along the line someone failed to effectively train these four daycare workers. But, do we as health care providers need to rethink our training? Have we forgotten our commitment to “First do no harm?” As we craft our messaging have we thought enough about the potential side effects of our attempts at scaring the public into following our suggestions?

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I suspect that you have heard about or maybe read the recent Associated Press story reporting that four daycare workers in Hamilton, Miss., have been charged with felony child abuse for intentionally scaring the children “who didn’t clean up or act good” by wearing a Halloween mask and yelling in their faces. I can have some sympathy for those among us who choose to spend their days tending a flock of sometimes unruly and mischievous toddlers and preschoolers. But, I think one would be hard pressed to find very many adults who would condone the strategy of these misguided daycare providers. Not surprisingly, the parents of some of these children describe their children as traumatized and having disordered sleep.

The news report of this incident in Mississippi doesn’t tell us if these daycare providers had used this tactic in the past. One wonders whether they had found less dramatic verbal threats just weren’t as effective as they had hoped and so decided to go all out.

How effective is fear in changing behavior? Certainly, we have all experienced situations in which a frightening experience has caused us to avoid places, people, and activities. But, is a fear-focused strategy one that health care providers should include in their quiver as we try to mold patient behavior? As luck would have it, 2 weeks before this news story broke I encountered a global study from 84 countries that sought to answer this question (Affect Sci. 2022 Sep. doi: 10.1007/s42761-022-00128-3).

Using the WHO four-point advice about COVID prevention (stay home/avoid shops/use face covering/isolate if exposed) as a model the researchers around the world reviewed the responses of 16,000 individuals. They found that there was no difference in the effectiveness of the message whether it was framed as a negative (“you have so much to lose”) or a positive (“you have so much to gain”). However, investigators observed that the negatively framed presentations generated significantly more anxiety in the respondents. The authors of the paper conclude that if there is no significant difference in the effectiveness, why would we chose a negatively framed presentation that is likely to generate anxiety that we know is associated with increased morbidity and mortality. From a purely public health perspective, it doesn’t make sense and is counterproductive.

I guess if we look back to the old carrot and stick metaphor we shouldn’t be surprised by the findings in this paper. If one’s only goal is to get a group of young preschoolers to behave by scaring the b’geezes out of them with a mask or a threat of bodily punishment, then go for it. Scare tactics will probably work just as well as offering a well-chosen reward system. However, the devil is in the side effects. It’s the same argument that I give to parents who argue that spanking works. Of course it does, but it has a narrow margin for safety and can set up ripples of negative side effects that can destroy healthy parent-child relationships.

The bottom line of this story is the sad truth that somewhere along the line someone failed to effectively train these four daycare workers. But, do we as health care providers need to rethink our training? Have we forgotten our commitment to “First do no harm?” As we craft our messaging have we thought enough about the potential side effects of our attempts at scaring the public into following our suggestions?

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

I suspect that you have heard about or maybe read the recent Associated Press story reporting that four daycare workers in Hamilton, Miss., have been charged with felony child abuse for intentionally scaring the children “who didn’t clean up or act good” by wearing a Halloween mask and yelling in their faces. I can have some sympathy for those among us who choose to spend their days tending a flock of sometimes unruly and mischievous toddlers and preschoolers. But, I think one would be hard pressed to find very many adults who would condone the strategy of these misguided daycare providers. Not surprisingly, the parents of some of these children describe their children as traumatized and having disordered sleep.

The news report of this incident in Mississippi doesn’t tell us if these daycare providers had used this tactic in the past. One wonders whether they had found less dramatic verbal threats just weren’t as effective as they had hoped and so decided to go all out.

How effective is fear in changing behavior? Certainly, we have all experienced situations in which a frightening experience has caused us to avoid places, people, and activities. But, is a fear-focused strategy one that health care providers should include in their quiver as we try to mold patient behavior? As luck would have it, 2 weeks before this news story broke I encountered a global study from 84 countries that sought to answer this question (Affect Sci. 2022 Sep. doi: 10.1007/s42761-022-00128-3).

Using the WHO four-point advice about COVID prevention (stay home/avoid shops/use face covering/isolate if exposed) as a model the researchers around the world reviewed the responses of 16,000 individuals. They found that there was no difference in the effectiveness of the message whether it was framed as a negative (“you have so much to lose”) or a positive (“you have so much to gain”). However, investigators observed that the negatively framed presentations generated significantly more anxiety in the respondents. The authors of the paper conclude that if there is no significant difference in the effectiveness, why would we chose a negatively framed presentation that is likely to generate anxiety that we know is associated with increased morbidity and mortality. From a purely public health perspective, it doesn’t make sense and is counterproductive.

I guess if we look back to the old carrot and stick metaphor we shouldn’t be surprised by the findings in this paper. If one’s only goal is to get a group of young preschoolers to behave by scaring the b’geezes out of them with a mask or a threat of bodily punishment, then go for it. Scare tactics will probably work just as well as offering a well-chosen reward system. However, the devil is in the side effects. It’s the same argument that I give to parents who argue that spanking works. Of course it does, but it has a narrow margin for safety and can set up ripples of negative side effects that can destroy healthy parent-child relationships.

The bottom line of this story is the sad truth that somewhere along the line someone failed to effectively train these four daycare workers. But, do we as health care providers need to rethink our training? Have we forgotten our commitment to “First do no harm?” As we craft our messaging have we thought enough about the potential side effects of our attempts at scaring the public into following our suggestions?

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Let’s pretend for a moment that you receive a call from one of your college roommates who thanks to his family connections has become a venture capitalist in California. His group is considering investing in a start-up that is developing a handheld instrument that it claims will use artificial intelligence to diagnose ear infections far more accurately than the human eye. He wonders if you would like to help him evaluate the company’s proposal and offers you a small percentage of the profits for your efforts should they choose to invest.

Your former roommate has done enough research on his own to understand that otitis media makes up a large chunk of a pediatrician’s workload and that making an accurate diagnosis can often be difficult in a struggling child. He describes his own experience watching a frustrated pediatrician attempting to remove wax from his child’s ear and eventually prescribing antibiotics “to be safe.”

You agree and review the prospectus, which includes a paper from a peer-reviewed journal. What you discover is that the investigators used more than 600 high-resolution images of tympanic membranes taken “during operative myringotomy and tympanostomy tube placement” and the findings at tympanocentesis to train a neural network.

Once trained, the model they developed could differentiate with 95% accuracy between an image of a tympanic membrane that covered a normal middle ear from one that merely contained fluid and from one that contained infected fluid. When these same images were shown to 39 clinicians, more than half of which were pediatricians and included both faculty-level staff and trainees, the average diagnostic accuracy was 65%.

The prospectus includes prediction that this technology could easily be developed into a handheld instrument similar to a traditional otoscope, which could then be linked to the operator’s smartphone, giving the clinician an instant treat or no-treat answer.

Now, remember you have nothing to lose except maybe a friendship. How would you advise your old college roommate?

My advice to your college buddy would be one of caution! Yes, there is a potential big upside because there is a real need for a device that could provide a diagnostic accuracy that this AI model promises. While I suspect that AI will always be more accurate in diagnosis using static images, I bet that most people, clinicians and nonclinicians, could improve their accuracy by linking photos with diagnoses with an hour of practice.

However, evaluating a high-resolution photograph taken through an operative scope inserted into the cerumenless ear canal of a sedated, afrebrile child is several orders of magnitude less difficult than the real-world environment in which the diagnosis of otitis media is usually made.

If the venture capitalists were still interested in getting into the otitis media marketplace, you might suggest they look into companies that have already developed image capture otoscopes. At this point I could only find one on the Internet that was portable and it certainly isn’t small-child friendly. Once we have a tool that can capture images in real-world situations, the next step is to train AI systems to interpret them using the approach these researchers have developed. I bet it can be done. It will be only a matter of time ... and money.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Let’s pretend for a moment that you receive a call from one of your college roommates who thanks to his family connections has become a venture capitalist in California. His group is considering investing in a start-up that is developing a handheld instrument that it claims will use artificial intelligence to diagnose ear infections far more accurately than the human eye. He wonders if you would like to help him evaluate the company’s proposal and offers you a small percentage of the profits for your efforts should they choose to invest.

Your former roommate has done enough research on his own to understand that otitis media makes up a large chunk of a pediatrician’s workload and that making an accurate diagnosis can often be difficult in a struggling child. He describes his own experience watching a frustrated pediatrician attempting to remove wax from his child’s ear and eventually prescribing antibiotics “to be safe.”

You agree and review the prospectus, which includes a paper from a peer-reviewed journal. What you discover is that the investigators used more than 600 high-resolution images of tympanic membranes taken “during operative myringotomy and tympanostomy tube placement” and the findings at tympanocentesis to train a neural network.

Once trained, the model they developed could differentiate with 95% accuracy between an image of a tympanic membrane that covered a normal middle ear from one that merely contained fluid and from one that contained infected fluid. When these same images were shown to 39 clinicians, more than half of which were pediatricians and included both faculty-level staff and trainees, the average diagnostic accuracy was 65%.

The prospectus includes prediction that this technology could easily be developed into a handheld instrument similar to a traditional otoscope, which could then be linked to the operator’s smartphone, giving the clinician an instant treat or no-treat answer.

Now, remember you have nothing to lose except maybe a friendship. How would you advise your old college roommate?

My advice to your college buddy would be one of caution! Yes, there is a potential big upside because there is a real need for a device that could provide a diagnostic accuracy that this AI model promises. While I suspect that AI will always be more accurate in diagnosis using static images, I bet that most people, clinicians and nonclinicians, could improve their accuracy by linking photos with diagnoses with an hour of practice.

However, evaluating a high-resolution photograph taken through an operative scope inserted into the cerumenless ear canal of a sedated, afrebrile child is several orders of magnitude less difficult than the real-world environment in which the diagnosis of otitis media is usually made.

If the venture capitalists were still interested in getting into the otitis media marketplace, you might suggest they look into companies that have already developed image capture otoscopes. At this point I could only find one on the Internet that was portable and it certainly isn’t small-child friendly. Once we have a tool that can capture images in real-world situations, the next step is to train AI systems to interpret them using the approach these researchers have developed. I bet it can be done. It will be only a matter of time ... and money.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Let’s pretend for a moment that you receive a call from one of your college roommates who thanks to his family connections has become a venture capitalist in California. His group is considering investing in a start-up that is developing a handheld instrument that it claims will use artificial intelligence to diagnose ear infections far more accurately than the human eye. He wonders if you would like to help him evaluate the company’s proposal and offers you a small percentage of the profits for your efforts should they choose to invest.

Your former roommate has done enough research on his own to understand that otitis media makes up a large chunk of a pediatrician’s workload and that making an accurate diagnosis can often be difficult in a struggling child. He describes his own experience watching a frustrated pediatrician attempting to remove wax from his child’s ear and eventually prescribing antibiotics “to be safe.”

You agree and review the prospectus, which includes a paper from a peer-reviewed journal. What you discover is that the investigators used more than 600 high-resolution images of tympanic membranes taken “during operative myringotomy and tympanostomy tube placement” and the findings at tympanocentesis to train a neural network.

Once trained, the model they developed could differentiate with 95% accuracy between an image of a tympanic membrane that covered a normal middle ear from one that merely contained fluid and from one that contained infected fluid. When these same images were shown to 39 clinicians, more than half of which were pediatricians and included both faculty-level staff and trainees, the average diagnostic accuracy was 65%.

The prospectus includes prediction that this technology could easily be developed into a handheld instrument similar to a traditional otoscope, which could then be linked to the operator’s smartphone, giving the clinician an instant treat or no-treat answer.

Now, remember you have nothing to lose except maybe a friendship. How would you advise your old college roommate?

My advice to your college buddy would be one of caution! Yes, there is a potential big upside because there is a real need for a device that could provide a diagnostic accuracy that this AI model promises. While I suspect that AI will always be more accurate in diagnosis using static images, I bet that most people, clinicians and nonclinicians, could improve their accuracy by linking photos with diagnoses with an hour of practice.

However, evaluating a high-resolution photograph taken through an operative scope inserted into the cerumenless ear canal of a sedated, afrebrile child is several orders of magnitude less difficult than the real-world environment in which the diagnosis of otitis media is usually made.

If the venture capitalists were still interested in getting into the otitis media marketplace, you might suggest they look into companies that have already developed image capture otoscopes. At this point I could only find one on the Internet that was portable and it certainly isn’t small-child friendly. Once we have a tool that can capture images in real-world situations, the next step is to train AI systems to interpret them using the approach these researchers have developed. I bet it can be done. It will be only a matter of time ... and money.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

We’ve been told for decades that a child who doesn’t start the day with a good breakfast is entering school at a serious disadvantage. The brain needs a good supply of energy to learn optimally. So the standard wisdom goes. Subsidized school breakfast programs have been built around this chestnut. But, is there solid evidence to support the notion that simply adding a morning meal to a child’s schedule will improve his or her school performance? It sounds like common sense, but is it just one of those old grandmother’s nuggets that doesn’t stand up under close scrutiny?

A recent study from Spain suggests that the relationship between breakfast and school performance is not merely related to the nutritional needs of a growing brain. Using data from nearly 4,000 Spanish children aged 4-14 collected in a 2017 national health survey, the investigators found “skipping breakfast and eating breakfast out of the home were linked to greater odds of psychosocial behavioral problems than eating breakfast at home.” And, we already know that, in general, children who misbehave in school don’t thrive academically.

There were also associations between the absence or presence of certain food groups in the morning meal with behavioral problems. But the data lacked the granularity to draw any firm conclusions – although the authors felt that what they consider a healthy Spanish diet may have had a positive influence on behavior.

The findings in this study may simply be another example of the many positive influences that have been associated with family meals and have little to do with what is actually consumed. The association may not have much to do with the family gathering together at a single Norman Rockwell sitting, a reality that I suspect seldom occurs. The apparent positive influence of breakfast may be that it reflects a family’s priorities: that food is important, that sleep is important, and that school is important – so important that scheduling the morning should focus on sending the child off well prepared. The child who is allowed to stay up to an unhealthy hour is likely to be difficult to arouse in the morning for breakfast and getting off to school.

It may be that the child’s behavior problems are so disruptive and taxing for the family that even with their best efforts, the parents can’t find the time and energy to provide a breakfast in the home.

On the other hand, the study doesn’t tell us how many children aren’t offered breakfast at home because their families simply can’t afford it. Obviously, the answer depends on the socioeconomic mix of a given community. In some localities this may represent a sizable percentage of the population.

So where does this leave us? Unfortunately, as I read through the discussion at the end of this paper I felt that the authors were leaning too much toward further research based on the potential associations between behavior and specific food groups their data suggested.

For me, the take-home message from this paper is that our existing efforts to improve academic success with food offered in school should also include strategies that promote eating breakfast at home. For example, the backpack take-home food distribution programs that seem to have been effective could include breakfast-targeted items packaged in a way that encourage families to provide breakfast at home.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

We’ve been told for decades that a child who doesn’t start the day with a good breakfast is entering school at a serious disadvantage. The brain needs a good supply of energy to learn optimally. So the standard wisdom goes. Subsidized school breakfast programs have been built around this chestnut. But, is there solid evidence to support the notion that simply adding a morning meal to a child’s schedule will improve his or her school performance? It sounds like common sense, but is it just one of those old grandmother’s nuggets that doesn’t stand up under close scrutiny?

A recent study from Spain suggests that the relationship between breakfast and school performance is not merely related to the nutritional needs of a growing brain. Using data from nearly 4,000 Spanish children aged 4-14 collected in a 2017 national health survey, the investigators found “skipping breakfast and eating breakfast out of the home were linked to greater odds of psychosocial behavioral problems than eating breakfast at home.” And, we already know that, in general, children who misbehave in school don’t thrive academically.

There were also associations between the absence or presence of certain food groups in the morning meal with behavioral problems. But the data lacked the granularity to draw any firm conclusions – although the authors felt that what they consider a healthy Spanish diet may have had a positive influence on behavior.

The findings in this study may simply be another example of the many positive influences that have been associated with family meals and have little to do with what is actually consumed. The association may not have much to do with the family gathering together at a single Norman Rockwell sitting, a reality that I suspect seldom occurs. The apparent positive influence of breakfast may be that it reflects a family’s priorities: that food is important, that sleep is important, and that school is important – so important that scheduling the morning should focus on sending the child off well prepared. The child who is allowed to stay up to an unhealthy hour is likely to be difficult to arouse in the morning for breakfast and getting off to school.

It may be that the child’s behavior problems are so disruptive and taxing for the family that even with their best efforts, the parents can’t find the time and energy to provide a breakfast in the home.

On the other hand, the study doesn’t tell us how many children aren’t offered breakfast at home because their families simply can’t afford it. Obviously, the answer depends on the socioeconomic mix of a given community. In some localities this may represent a sizable percentage of the population.

So where does this leave us? Unfortunately, as I read through the discussion at the end of this paper I felt that the authors were leaning too much toward further research based on the potential associations between behavior and specific food groups their data suggested.

For me, the take-home message from this paper is that our existing efforts to improve academic success with food offered in school should also include strategies that promote eating breakfast at home. For example, the backpack take-home food distribution programs that seem to have been effective could include breakfast-targeted items packaged in a way that encourage families to provide breakfast at home.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

We’ve been told for decades that a child who doesn’t start the day with a good breakfast is entering school at a serious disadvantage. The brain needs a good supply of energy to learn optimally. So the standard wisdom goes. Subsidized school breakfast programs have been built around this chestnut. But, is there solid evidence to support the notion that simply adding a morning meal to a child’s schedule will improve his or her school performance? It sounds like common sense, but is it just one of those old grandmother’s nuggets that doesn’t stand up under close scrutiny?

A recent study from Spain suggests that the relationship between breakfast and school performance is not merely related to the nutritional needs of a growing brain. Using data from nearly 4,000 Spanish children aged 4-14 collected in a 2017 national health survey, the investigators found “skipping breakfast and eating breakfast out of the home were linked to greater odds of psychosocial behavioral problems than eating breakfast at home.” And, we already know that, in general, children who misbehave in school don’t thrive academically.

There were also associations between the absence or presence of certain food groups in the morning meal with behavioral problems. But the data lacked the granularity to draw any firm conclusions – although the authors felt that what they consider a healthy Spanish diet may have had a positive influence on behavior.

The findings in this study may simply be another example of the many positive influences that have been associated with family meals and have little to do with what is actually consumed. The association may not have much to do with the family gathering together at a single Norman Rockwell sitting, a reality that I suspect seldom occurs. The apparent positive influence of breakfast may be that it reflects a family’s priorities: that food is important, that sleep is important, and that school is important – so important that scheduling the morning should focus on sending the child off well prepared. The child who is allowed to stay up to an unhealthy hour is likely to be difficult to arouse in the morning for breakfast and getting off to school.

It may be that the child’s behavior problems are so disruptive and taxing for the family that even with their best efforts, the parents can’t find the time and energy to provide a breakfast in the home.

On the other hand, the study doesn’t tell us how many children aren’t offered breakfast at home because their families simply can’t afford it. Obviously, the answer depends on the socioeconomic mix of a given community. In some localities this may represent a sizable percentage of the population.

So where does this leave us? Unfortunately, as I read through the discussion at the end of this paper I felt that the authors were leaning too much toward further research based on the potential associations between behavior and specific food groups their data suggested.

For me, the take-home message from this paper is that our existing efforts to improve academic success with food offered in school should also include strategies that promote eating breakfast at home. For example, the backpack take-home food distribution programs that seem to have been effective could include breakfast-targeted items packaged in a way that encourage families to provide breakfast at home.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

At the risk of losing a digit or two I am going to dip my toes into the murky waters of gender-affirming care, sometimes referred to as trans care. Recently, Moira Szilagyi, MD, PhD, president of the American Academy of Pediatrics, released two statements, one in the Aug. 22, 2022, Wall Street Journal, the other summarized in the Aug. 25, 2022, AAP Daily Briefing, in which she attempts to clarify the academy’s position on gender-affirming care. They were well-worded and heroic attempts to clear the air. I fear these explanations will do little to encourage informed and courteous discussions between those entrenched on either side of a disagreement that is unfortunately being played out on media outlets and state legislatures instead of the offices of primary care physicians and specialists where it belongs.

The current mess is an example of what can happen when there is a paucity of reliable data, a superabundance of emotion, and a system that feeds on instant news and sound bites with little understanding of how science should work.

Some of the turmoil is a response to the notion that in certain situations gender dysphoria may be a condition that can be learned or mimicked from exposure to other gender-dysphoric individuals. Two papers anchor either side of the debate. The first paper was published in 2018 by a then–Brown University health expert who hypothesized the existence of a condition which she labeled “rapid-onset gender dysphoria [ROGD]”. One can imagine that “social contagion” might be considered as one of the potential contributors to this hypothesized condition. Unfortunately, the publication of the paper ignited a firestorm of criticism from a segment of the population that advocates for the transgender community, prompting the university and the online publisher to backpedal and reevaluate the quality of the research on which the paper was based.

One of the concerns voiced at the time of publication was that the research could be used to support the transphobic agenda by some state legislatures hoping to ban gender-affirming care. How large a role the paper played in the current spate of legislation in is unclear. I suspect it has been small. But, one can’t deny the potential exists.

Leaping forward to 2022, the second paper was published in the August issue of Pediatrics, in which the authors attempted to test the ROGD hypothesis and question the inference of social contagion.

The investigators found that in 2017 and 2019 the birth ratios of transgender-diverse (TGD) individuals did not favor assigned female-sex-at-birth (AFAB) individuals. They also discovered that in their sample overall there was a decrease in the percentage of adolescents who self-identified as TGD. Not surprisingly, “bullying victimization and suicidality were higher among TGD youth when compared with their cisgender peers.” The authors concluded that their findings were “incongruent with an ROGD hypothesis that posits social contagion” nor should it be used to restrict access to gender-affirming care.

There you have it. Are we any closer to understanding gender dysphoria and its origins? I don’t think so. The media is somewhat less confused. The NBC News online presence headline on Aug. 3, 2022, reads “‘Social contagion’ isn’t causing more youths to be transgender, study finds.”

My sense is that the general population perceives an increase in the prevalence of gender dysphoria. It is very likely that this perception is primarily a reflection of a more compassionate and educated attitude in a significant portion of the population making it less challenging for gender-dysphoric youth to surface. However, it should not surprise us that some parents and observers are concerned that a percentage of this increased prevalence is the result of social contagion. Nor should it surprise us that some advocates for the trans population feel threatened by this hypothesis.

Neither of these studies really answers the question of whether some cases of gender dysphoria are the result of social contagion. Both were small samples using methodology that has been called into question. The bottom line is that we need more studies and must remain open to considering their results. That’s how science should work.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

At the risk of losing a digit or two I am going to dip my toes into the murky waters of gender-affirming care, sometimes referred to as trans care. Recently, Moira Szilagyi, MD, PhD, president of the American Academy of Pediatrics, released two statements, one in the Aug. 22, 2022, Wall Street Journal, the other summarized in the Aug. 25, 2022, AAP Daily Briefing, in which she attempts to clarify the academy’s position on gender-affirming care. They were well-worded and heroic attempts to clear the air. I fear these explanations will do little to encourage informed and courteous discussions between those entrenched on either side of a disagreement that is unfortunately being played out on media outlets and state legislatures instead of the offices of primary care physicians and specialists where it belongs.

The current mess is an example of what can happen when there is a paucity of reliable data, a superabundance of emotion, and a system that feeds on instant news and sound bites with little understanding of how science should work.

Some of the turmoil is a response to the notion that in certain situations gender dysphoria may be a condition that can be learned or mimicked from exposure to other gender-dysphoric individuals. Two papers anchor either side of the debate. The first paper was published in 2018 by a then–Brown University health expert who hypothesized the existence of a condition which she labeled “rapid-onset gender dysphoria [ROGD]”. One can imagine that “social contagion” might be considered as one of the potential contributors to this hypothesized condition. Unfortunately, the publication of the paper ignited a firestorm of criticism from a segment of the population that advocates for the transgender community, prompting the university and the online publisher to backpedal and reevaluate the quality of the research on which the paper was based.

One of the concerns voiced at the time of publication was that the research could be used to support the transphobic agenda by some state legislatures hoping to ban gender-affirming care. How large a role the paper played in the current spate of legislation in is unclear. I suspect it has been small. But, one can’t deny the potential exists.

Leaping forward to 2022, the second paper was published in the August issue of Pediatrics, in which the authors attempted to test the ROGD hypothesis and question the inference of social contagion.

The investigators found that in 2017 and 2019 the birth ratios of transgender-diverse (TGD) individuals did not favor assigned female-sex-at-birth (AFAB) individuals. They also discovered that in their sample overall there was a decrease in the percentage of adolescents who self-identified as TGD. Not surprisingly, “bullying victimization and suicidality were higher among TGD youth when compared with their cisgender peers.” The authors concluded that their findings were “incongruent with an ROGD hypothesis that posits social contagion” nor should it be used to restrict access to gender-affirming care.

There you have it. Are we any closer to understanding gender dysphoria and its origins? I don’t think so. The media is somewhat less confused. The NBC News online presence headline on Aug. 3, 2022, reads “‘Social contagion’ isn’t causing more youths to be transgender, study finds.”

My sense is that the general population perceives an increase in the prevalence of gender dysphoria. It is very likely that this perception is primarily a reflection of a more compassionate and educated attitude in a significant portion of the population making it less challenging for gender-dysphoric youth to surface. However, it should not surprise us that some parents and observers are concerned that a percentage of this increased prevalence is the result of social contagion. Nor should it surprise us that some advocates for the trans population feel threatened by this hypothesis.

Neither of these studies really answers the question of whether some cases of gender dysphoria are the result of social contagion. Both were small samples using methodology that has been called into question. The bottom line is that we need more studies and must remain open to considering their results. That’s how science should work.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

At the risk of losing a digit or two I am going to dip my toes into the murky waters of gender-affirming care, sometimes referred to as trans care. Recently, Moira Szilagyi, MD, PhD, president of the American Academy of Pediatrics, released two statements, one in the Aug. 22, 2022, Wall Street Journal, the other summarized in the Aug. 25, 2022, AAP Daily Briefing, in which she attempts to clarify the academy’s position on gender-affirming care. They were well-worded and heroic attempts to clear the air. I fear these explanations will do little to encourage informed and courteous discussions between those entrenched on either side of a disagreement that is unfortunately being played out on media outlets and state legislatures instead of the offices of primary care physicians and specialists where it belongs.

The current mess is an example of what can happen when there is a paucity of reliable data, a superabundance of emotion, and a system that feeds on instant news and sound bites with little understanding of how science should work.

Some of the turmoil is a response to the notion that in certain situations gender dysphoria may be a condition that can be learned or mimicked from exposure to other gender-dysphoric individuals. Two papers anchor either side of the debate. The first paper was published in 2018 by a then–Brown University health expert who hypothesized the existence of a condition which she labeled “rapid-onset gender dysphoria [ROGD]”. One can imagine that “social contagion” might be considered as one of the potential contributors to this hypothesized condition. Unfortunately, the publication of the paper ignited a firestorm of criticism from a segment of the population that advocates for the transgender community, prompting the university and the online publisher to backpedal and reevaluate the quality of the research on which the paper was based.

One of the concerns voiced at the time of publication was that the research could be used to support the transphobic agenda by some state legislatures hoping to ban gender-affirming care. How large a role the paper played in the current spate of legislation in is unclear. I suspect it has been small. But, one can’t deny the potential exists.

Leaping forward to 2022, the second paper was published in the August issue of Pediatrics, in which the authors attempted to test the ROGD hypothesis and question the inference of social contagion.

The investigators found that in 2017 and 2019 the birth ratios of transgender-diverse (TGD) individuals did not favor assigned female-sex-at-birth (AFAB) individuals. They also discovered that in their sample overall there was a decrease in the percentage of adolescents who self-identified as TGD. Not surprisingly, “bullying victimization and suicidality were higher among TGD youth when compared with their cisgender peers.” The authors concluded that their findings were “incongruent with an ROGD hypothesis that posits social contagion” nor should it be used to restrict access to gender-affirming care.

There you have it. Are we any closer to understanding gender dysphoria and its origins? I don’t think so. The media is somewhat less confused. The NBC News online presence headline on Aug. 3, 2022, reads “‘Social contagion’ isn’t causing more youths to be transgender, study finds.”

My sense is that the general population perceives an increase in the prevalence of gender dysphoria. It is very likely that this perception is primarily a reflection of a more compassionate and educated attitude in a significant portion of the population making it less challenging for gender-dysphoric youth to surface. However, it should not surprise us that some parents and observers are concerned that a percentage of this increased prevalence is the result of social contagion. Nor should it surprise us that some advocates for the trans population feel threatened by this hypothesis.

Neither of these studies really answers the question of whether some cases of gender dysphoria are the result of social contagion. Both were small samples using methodology that has been called into question. The bottom line is that we need more studies and must remain open to considering their results. That’s how science should work.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].